Blanket Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Or J.K. Rowling. Also, this fic is not meant to be a realistic representation of the aforementioned Rowling, and her character is based on nothing but the fact that she wrote the Harry Potter books.

PG-13 for language.

a/n: So, second fic! A lot more dialogue in this one. Um, it might be confusing at first, but keep reading and hopefully the intent will come through. Also, there will probably be incongruity in the slang, as I am neither infallible nor British.

Chapter One

Draco Malfoy wants out. He's played his part so well over the years, from snobbish aristocratic bully to bigoted brooding trainwreck, but really, enough is enough, you know? Fuck Lucius, fuck Voldemort, fuck Harry-fucking-Potter. He is through. That's why he left the manor last night and booked a flight to Katmandu, which he is boarding as we speak.

Well, would be boarding, if he knew what he was doing.

"ID, please."

"What?"

"ID."

"Right…titchy muggles...Hello, Dee. I Draco. I want go plane, fly Katmandu."

"No, I need to see your identification card!"

"Oh! Right…um…shit." He rummaged through his pockets. "Will this do?"

"…Apparition license? Is this some kind of a joke?"

"Can you just give me the ticket, please?"

"Hmm. Alright, Mr.….Malfoy. Do you have any luggage?"

"Yes, right here."

"A trunk? Let's see…my apologies, Mr. Malfoy, but this trunk is 9 kilos overweight. If you would like to ship it on this flight, you'll have to pay a fee."

"A fee? Well, how much is it?"

"42 pounds."

"Bugger!" She scowled at his language. "What have I got…30 galleons and a knut…"

"Is that gold? Are you trying to bribe me?"

"What? No!"

"Oh, really? What have you got in your trunk that's so important, hmm? I won't be bribed, you know. I've got some integrity, at least...is that real gold?"

"It's not for you!"

She sniffed irritably. "So what's in the trunk? What are you hiding?"

"What are you on about, I never-"

"I thought your name sounded dodgy. Malfoy, huh. Now, let's just open it up and have a look-see."

"Don't!" He leaned forward and whispered. "It might explode."

"What, have you got a bomb?"

"A bomb? What's a bomb?"

"Well don't shout, now you've got everyone going." Around them, people were in various stages of panic, some edging slowly away while others scampered towards the doors, screeching absurdly. Loud sirens rent the air.

"What in hell is going on?"

"Well, I expect that will be the police. You really should know better than to try and smuggle bombs onto the airplane. I can't say I'm surprised; your manners are terrible, and 'Draco Malfoy' is one of the most made-up sounding names I've ever heard."

"It's my real name!"

"And I'm the queen, God save her."

A burly man in uniform swaggered over to stand behind Draco. "What seems to be the problem, miss?"

"He told me that he has a bomb!"

"For the last time, what is a bomb?"

"Well, he said his trunk would explode, anyhow."

"I'm afraid that I'm going to have to arrest you, sir. Miss, since you are the witness, would you mind accompanying me to the station?"

"Certainly, officer."

Draco didn't know what police were exactly, but he found out. Draco hated the police. And the cold, boring cell they had put him in. And the large, heavily tattooed man staring at him from the bed. Draco wished very much that he hadn't left his wand in his trunk, although it probably wouldn't help since the police-men took everything out of his pockets.

He jumped when he heard a door creaking open, and the tattooed man leered at him stupidly. The officer from the airport walked down the hall to their cell.

"Draco Malfoy? Come with me for questioning."

Draco leapt up hurriedly, eyeing his cell mate as he sidled out of the barred door.

The policeman led him down a long hall, to a room with a glass window through which he could see the airline woman sitting at a table, restlessly joggling her foot.

They walked into the room, and the officer motioned Draco to sit.

"Now, miss, would you please recount to me exactly what happened?"

"If I must. This has all been most traumatizing, you realize."

"Of course."

"Well, I though that he seemed a bit crazed at first; he called me 'Dee' and spoke like some jungle heathen. Then he gave me a fake ID card, I'm sure of it now. He called himself Draco Malfoy. Has he revealed to you his true identity yet?"

"I already told you-"

"Please refrain from speaking until she has finished, Mr. Malfoy."

"I see he's sticking to his story. Anyway, he put a great hulking trunk on the scale. It looked old and expensive, maybe antique. Probably stolen."

"Hey!"

"Back to the story. It was too heavy and I informed him of the fee, whereupon he pulled out a bunch of gold coins and started counting them out suggestively, trying to bribe me into letting his trunk on the plane. I wouldn't take it, though, and I told him so. Ethics and all. Then, I got real suspicious, and I asked him what was inside, and he told me not to open it because it was a bomb!"

"I did not!"

"Well, he said as much, so I pulled the emergency lever, and then he started shouting his head off about bombs and agitating the other customers. It was quite upsetting. Then you came and cuffed him up, and I must say I was ever so relieved. You know the rest." She smiled smugly.

"Is there anything else you would like to add?"

"No, officer. I've said my part and now I'll trust in the law to exact judgment upon this…scoundrel."

Draco glared at the woman.

"Well, miss, you seem to be an upright citizen. If that is all, you may leave."

"Thank you, officer. I've had a very stressful day."

The officer turned to Draco after the woman left. "Well, that should have gotten her off of our backs. Don't worry, Mr. Malfoy. We've been informed of the situation by your publisher, who is waiting in the other room. Shall I go and get her?"

"No!"

"Well, I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice, Draco," snapped an irritated dark-haired woman as she walked through the door. "You need our representation as it's the only thing getting you out of this mess. Now, officer, I understand you still have a few questions for my client?"

"Just one. Mr. Malfoy, why did you tell that woman that your trunk would explode?"

"It was just a standard locking charm! No one is meant to open it but me."

"Hmm. Alright, then. Considering the circumstances, we'll let you off with a warning. Just be careful about using magic and carrying around magical objects, especially if you plan on leaving our jurisdiction." He left the room.

"It's not my fault that twit tried to open the trunk, I told her not to!"

"Draco, this is precisely why you should have informed us of your intentions. You seriously endangered yourself and others by leaving so abruptly, and with so little knowledge of the real world!"

"Annette, you only care about me because I'm worth money to you." Cue a sulk.

"Don't be so immature. Of course I care about you as a person, but this is my job. You're worth millions, millions that would have gone down the drain if you had been injured or killed! Jesus, Draco, it took us forever to find you!"

"It would have taken you even longer if Rowling hadn't of given us this blasted wizarding currency."

"Speaking of Rowling…She's on the phone. She wants to talk to you."

He was incensed. "What if I don't want to talk to her?"

"She's your author! You really should be a bit more respectful. Here, she's been waiting for a while."

Draco grudgingly accepted the phone while Annette ushered the police officer out of the room.

On the line, an all-too-familiar voice spoke.

"Draco, is that you?"

"Unfortunately."

"Oh, I was so worried! What were you trying to do?"

He rolled his eyes. "Leave."

"But why?"

"Because."

"Draco, don't be short with me! I created you!"

"Yeah, well, I didn't ask to be created!"

She snorted. "Is that what this is about? You're going through a rebellious stage?"

"A rebellious stage? You've been controlling my entire life for the past-well, forever! I'd hardly say that this is a stage!"

"It's alright, Draco. Most teenagers go through this; it's nothing to be embarrassed about. I'm just glad that we found you. When are you coming back?"

"Never."

"Don't be childish. I'll send a cab and you can come back tonight."

"No, really. I'm not coming back."

"Where are you going to go, then?" Her tone suggested that he had nowhere.

"Away from you."

"But Draco, you're essential to the plot of book seven!"

"Does it sound like I care?"

"You really are just a spoiled brat, aren't you?"

"I am what you made me."

She sighed. "Oh, Draco…What am I supposed to do?"

"Just leave me alone! That's all I want."

"I can't. You're a primary character. What's it going to take for you to come back?"

"I honestly don't think I will."

"Ever? You're done for good? You can't just leave! This is your whole life! This is your destiny, your purpose! You can't leave me…" She seemed somewhat hurt, and Draco felt a twinge of guilt crawling along his neck.

"Look, just…let me go for a little while, without calling to nag me or anything. I'm definitely not coming back right now. Just let me be alone for a bit. And then, I'll…I'll think about it."

"You're really serious about this."

"Yeah."

She sighed. "I'm not happy about it."

"I know."

"Just…I guess, be careful, okay?"

"Okay."

"Will you call and check in with me once in a while so I know you're alright?"

He cringed. "Sure, I guess."

"Okay. Look; I'll have Annette get you a cell phone and a debit card, and I'll put some money into an account for you, so you won't starve or anything. She'll explain how it works."

"Thank you. Really."

"Do you know what you'll do?"

"Travel around a bit, I guess. Try to figure some stuff out."

"I don't want this to be a permanent thing."

"We'll see. I'll call you in a few days, maybe. Thanks again." He meant it.

"Alright, Draco. Goodbye."

a/n: Sorry, I know it's short. I'll try and have the next chapter out within the week. Hermione will be entering the plot soon. In the mean time, review and tell me what you think!