A/N This story fills in some of the years between the final battle and when Harry and Draco met at Platform 9 and three quarters

A/N This story fills in some of the years between the final battle and when Harry and Draco met at Platform 9 and three quarters. I wondered just what Draco had gotten up to in all those years. How did he meet the mother of his child? How did he cope with his memories of his trouble past?

The character belong to JK Rowling, this is merely my version of what may have happened.

Two Years Later

It was best that he went away for a while. Draco was extremely grateful that his mother had insisted he study at home in that last terrifying year of Lord Voldermort's reign at Malfoy Manor. The next year Draco had passed his NEWTS with a handful of Outstandings.
So when The Department of International Cooperation had offered him a posting overseas, Draco had jumped at the chance. He needed to be away from the oppressing walls of the manor and its memories. Most of all he needed to be far away from the people. Aurors and Ministry officials still made frequent visits to the Manor attempting to piece together the events of the last year. Draco had come face to face with Ron Weasley more times than he cared to. No matter how many times Draco tried to explain the fear and helplessness his family had suffered, Weasley would never forgive him for the part the Malfoys had played in the final battle and his brother's death.
To live in France would be a relief.
His trunks had been packed for days and now the staff had disappeared with them down to the cars. Draco took one final look around his childhood bedroom and closed the door. It was as if he had closed the cover on a very long novel. It was over at last, leaving him with some feelings of sadness. Yet, as he turned to walk down the hall each step away felt just that little bit lighter.
The drive in the Ministry car was uneventful. The car's leather interior was comfortable and the competent wizard driver manoeuvred through traffic as if he were the only car on the road. The swaying of the car made Draco drowsy and he found himself dreaming. His dreams were never pleasant these days. He woke as the driver pulled up to a neat two story building surrounded by a high white fence.
"Sir! We've arrived at your new residence," said the driver.
Draco stepped out of the car glad to stretch his long legs at last. His leather shoes crunched on the gravel driveway as he walked up to the front steps to meet his new staff. There were four of them standing in a line looking at him with curiosity. He resolved to treat them better than the staff at Malfoy manor. This journey marked the start of a whole new life for him.
"Good afternoon sir," the staff greeted him. Their eyes could not hide the surprise of being under such a young manager. It made Draco even more determined to show the Ministry he would be a competent ambassador.
"I'm very pleased to meet you all. I'm sure you will do an excellent job of keeping the house in order so that I can conduct my business here with dignity," Draco said hoping he sounded professional and confident while still being friendly. This was a totally new experience for him. He had virtually not even looked at the servants of Malfoy manor.
He passed by through the door, noticing the two young parlour maids whispered to each other behind his back. He ignored them and held his head even higher as he surveyed the interior of the house. It was certainly not as grand as the Malfoy Manor and yet he already preferred this dwelling. It was light and airy and had a friendly feel. Draco nodded. This was fitting for the youngest ever wizard Ambassador to France.
One of the staff quickly detached himself from the others and hurried to stand before Draco in his crisp black uniform.
"My name is Hadley Young, Mr Malfoy. I'll be your butler. Will you allow me to give you a tour of the house?"
And Hadley showed him the study first, filled with leather bound volumes and lit by bottle green lamps. A cherry wood desk backed onto the window and faced the warm comfortable space populated by a leather couch and easy chair. A rich red rug lay over the polished wooden floor.
"Very fitting," muttered Draco, more to himself than to Hadley.
They wandered slowly from room to room and Draco took in the bright airy spaces, very pleased with his accommodation. Yet as inviting and comfortable as it looked, Draco suddenly felt very lonely.
It was true that the people who had called him friend over the years had never had any true loyalty to him, and at least at Malfoy Manor his mother attended to him with affection. But here there was not even a familiar face.
And it was very quiet.
After the noise and bustle of the hundreds of students at Hogwarts, Malfoy Manor had seemed empty. It had taken some time to acclimatise to that atmosphere. This French provincial house was even lonelier with only a fraction of the staff.
Draco spent as little time as possible to freshen up, showering and changing clothes after the journey. He wished to visit the French Ministry as soon as possible. It seemed preferential to spending time alone in the quiet, empty house.
Though the driver seemed unprepared to set out again so soon, he registered no surprise and opened the door for Draco to step into the car. Within minutes they arrived at the French ministry building. It was obvious from the very first sight that the French Ministry did things differently to in England.
Draco had visited the English ministry of Magic many times with his father. The drab exterior of the building was designed to deter muggles. Not so in France. Wide white steps lead up to an impressive stone archway where glass doors stood open invitingly. Several caped and colourful figures conversed on the steps, not in the slightest bit concerned with their obvious appearance.
The driver had opened the car door for him once more and seen Draco's surprised gaze.
"There's all kind of charms on this place, sir. Muggles just walk right on past without seeing the entire building," he explained and waved his hand at the people on the pavement. Tourists, eyes on maps, heavy backpacks weighing them down, walked past without even a glance in the direction of the beautiful white building.
Draco allowed himself a chuckle and exited the car. He was going to like this place.