Part Three

Chapter 38: The Runaway

The door of the Hog's Head creaked open. The dingy pub was completely empty. Draco crept inside, his ears open for any sound of movement. He shut the door behind him until it clicked and rested his head against the dusty wood panels for a moment. No time to think right now. Draco looked around the room, his eyes falling on the portrait of the young girl hanging above the fireplace. She was staring at him with her big blue eyes, wary of his actions. Draco slowly turned away from the painting. He wrapped his robes tighter around his heaving chest. He forced himself to take long, deep breaths. He forced himself to picture Malfoy Manor in his mind. His parents' bedroom, specifically. He clutched at the wand he had picked up off of the floor of the Great Hall. Then he turned on the spot and vanished.

Draco stumbled on the rug in his parents' room. He brushed off his robes and regained his posture. He walked slowly to the door and pressed his ear to the door leading to the hall. Silence. Draco muttered, "Muffliato," with the stolen wand pointing at the door. He knew the spell would be weak because he was using a borrowed wand, but he still had to take precautions.

He turned to face the bed. He scanned the room, searching for his father's things. He knew his father hadn't left Draco's inheritance money in Gringotts. So now Draco just had to find it. Draco began tearing the room apart. He ripped the sheets off the bed, threw the mattress on the floor, and blew up the bathroom floor. When he found nothing, Draco headed down to his father's study. The house appeared to be empty. Draco opened all the drawers in the desk and even removed the floorboards around the desk. Then he began searching through the bookshelf. He performed every counter curse he knew-and he knew quite a few-all of them directed at the books. Finally, Draco uncovered a small catch in the back of one of the shelves. He pulled at it until the panel came off. Inside he found a stash of Galleons. Whether or not this was his inheritance money, Draco no longer cared. He conjured a bag and stuffed the golden coins inside. He stuffed the bag in his pocket, then headed for his room.

In his room, Draco changed into gray slacks and a pale blue sweater and buttoned up his winter coat to his throat. He stuffed a change of clothes, the money, and the wand into a knapsack and threw it over his shoulder. Then Draco headed for the family's broomshed. He grabbed the nicest broom he could find and mounted it. He stared up at the stars. He took a deep breath. Then he kicked off.

The wind whistled in Draco's ears as he drank in the cool night air. He felt so free. He was finally leaving. He was leaving behind all the bigotry, the elitism, the stigma, the family name. He let the sound of the air and the wind wash over him, bathing him in freedom. He leaned forward, accelerating his broom forward.

Hours later, Draco landed in a wheatfield in the outskirts of Paris. He descended slowly, running his fingertips over the tops of the golden stalks. He dismounted and carried the broom over his shoulder as he walked toward the farm at the edge of the field. Draco knew exactly where he was. He checked to see that there was a car parked in front of the house before walking around to the side of the house. Draco picked up a pebble from the ground and rolled it in his palm, contemplating the window with the white lace curtains. He tossed the pebble at the window. When no one responded, Draco threw another rock. Then another. Finally, the window was flung open. Draco pressed himself against the wall of the house.

"Who's there?" A girl's voice called out in a loud whisper. Draco smiled. He mounted his broom and glided up to the window. He grinned broadly at the girl standing at the window.

"Miss me?" Draco beamed.

"Draco!" The girl exclaimed. "What are you doing here? And so late at night?"

"Can I come in?" Draco prodded.

"Yes, but..."

Draco flew into the room, dismounting in front of the bed. He straightened his cloak and turned to the girl. "Hello, Dominique. How have you been?"

Dominique narrowed her eyes at him. "Why are you here?"

"Would you believe me if I said it's because I miss you?"

Dominique raised an eyebrow.

"Why aren't you at school?" Draco continued.

"We have a holiday."

"What for?"

"When I've been given a holiday, I don't ask questions," she responded with a smirk.

Draco smiled. Dominique crossed the room and sat cross-legged on the bed. "I have missed you," she said, looking up at Draco. "You haven't visited the past two summers. Why?"

Draco's brow furrowed. "My family," he stated simply. Dominique nodded knowingly.

"So why are you here now?" She patted the blanket next to her. Draco sat down.

"I'll tell you, if you promise not to tell anyone," Draco began cautiously.

Dominique laughed. "Who would I tell? No one you know knows me."

"They're going to come looking for me."

"Who?"

"My mother, my father...the Ministry..." Draco said slowly

"Why?"

Draco sighed. "I did some bad things. But I swear I wasn't thinking straight. They were threatening me. Threatening to kill my mother..." Draco choked.

Dominique placed a hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to tell me everything," she assured him. "It's okay."

Draco turned to her. She looked so sincere. "I've missed you."

Dominique smiled. "So. You're on the run from your Ministry and your parents. So why come here?"

"I need help," Draco confessed. "I don't know where to go. All I know is that I need to leave Europe."

Dominique thought for a moment. "You could go to Australia. I have a friend who lives there. I'm sure he could find you a flat..."

Draco cut her off. "No, not Australia. I can't go there."

Dominique looked at him questioningly, but did not interrogate him. "America then? You only know English and French, so...or South America? Some countries in Africa?"

"Too many options!" Draco laughed. "America sounds good. What's a good place to disappear?"

"Any big city," Dominique responded. She walked over to the bookshelf mounted on the wall above her desk. She pulled down an atlas and handed it to Draco, reclaiming her seat on the bed next to him. Draco opened up the book to the section on the US. He scanned the list of major cities.

"New York?"

Dominique crinkled her nose.

"Chicago?"

"No."

"Atlanta?"

"No"

"Boston?"

"Hmm...no."

Draco laughed again. "Since when do you know so much about America?"

Dominique smiled. "I'm just playing it by ear."

"Fine. San Francisco?"

Dominique's eyes lit up. "Ooh, we went there in a trip once! It's beautiful."

"Are you sure?" Draco asked, feeling unsure. Dominique nodded eagerly.

"You'll love it there."

Draco smiled at her and returned the atlas to its place on the shelf. "So how do I get there?"

Dominique's face fell. "Are you leaving now?"

Draco shrugged. "Depends."

"Well...if you don't want anyone to find you, go there the Muggle way."

"And what's that?"

A mischievous look gleamed in Dominique's eyes.

"What the hell is this?" Draco growled at Dominique when they boarded the plane that would be flying them to San Francisco, via Frankfurt.

"An airplane," Dominique replied. "And hush, you're being so obvious!"

Draco was terrified as Dominique fastened the seatbelt around his waist. Draco squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists as the plane took off.

"Relax!" Dominique whispered to him. "You've flown on a broom before! This is easier!"

"How? My life is in the hands of a man who, by the sound of it, only controls this thing by pressing a few buttons!"

"He has a co-pilot too, " Dominique replied with a grin. Draco glared at her.

"If I die because of this..."

Dominique laughed cheerfully. "You'll be fine."

The two of them enjoyed peanuts and soda on the flight. They chatted about the past two summers when they hadn't seen each other.

Draco had met Dominique when he was eight on a family trip to Paris. He had first talked to her in the ice cream parlor, and they became fast friends. Since then, every summer, he snuck off to her family's farm and spent time with her. She was his only friend who his parents hadn't forced on him. They had decided not to tell each other's parents about their friendship, for no particular reason other than that they were young and wanted to be rebellious. And they carried out the secret throughout their teenage years. Dominique went to Beauxbatons, but she hadn't gone to Hogwarts with the delegation for the Tri-Wizard tournament. Her parents, living outside of the Parisian Wizarding community, did a lot of things the Muggle way. This was another reason Draco never told his parents about Dominique.

Dominique guided Draco through the flight transfer. They both slept through the second flight. Draco was completely lost when they landed in San Francisco. Dominique dragged him off the plane and hailed them a cab outside the airport.

"Pier forty-three and a half," she told the driver, pulling Draco into the car.

Draco turned to Dominique and whispered into her ear, "How do you know he's a wizard?"

Dominique threw back her head and laughed. "That's a real pier, Draco."

Draco didn't believe her, but was too tired to argue. He fell asleep against her shoulder. When he woke up, Dominique was paying the cab driver and pushing him toward the door of the cab.

Draco stumbled out of the cab and was nearly knocked over by a man on a bicycle. Dominique grabbed his arm, hooking her elbow into his. "Come on, I have so much to show you."