Hello again! I had a surprise day off, so I was able to edit chapter two for you guys. Like I said last chapter, this one is still laying the foundation for the story, but don't worry, next chapter we start to actually get into the story. I know these first two chapters are a bit sad/self-reflective, but the rest of the story won't be like this, because - if I'm being honest - I don't particularly enjoy writing that type of stuff. It's going to be a healing/self-discovery story, but from here on out it won't be so self-reflective and a little more light hearted.

Anyway, thank you for the kind response to last chapter, and I hope everyone enjoys this chapter just as much!

Disclaimer: All rights go to JK Rowling, I am writing for pure entertainment purposes, and make no profit.

XXX

Ch. 2: I Need to Get Away

"I need to get away," I groaned, flopping myself onto my bed.

Blaise, who was leaning near the window and inspecting his nails, quirked an eyebrow. "Dear old Mum and Dad getting to be too much?"

I rolled my eyes at the ceiling. "That's an understatement. I don't think 'Dear old Dad' has put the bottle down since he was stripped of his magic. He's perpetually drunk, and you know what kind of drunk he is." Blaise moved to sit in the chair near my bed, his expression growing more serious. He knew quite well exactly what kind of drunk my father was. "And Mum," I continued with a sigh, "well, I think she is just trying to pretend everything is normal to keep everything from falling apart even more. Either that or she's delusional and truly doesn't believe the War happened."

"I'm sure she knows that the War happened," Blaise said quietly. "Something like that's pretty tough to forget."

I sat up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. Running my hands over my tired face, I replied, "I know, trust me. When we first came home, she hired a cleaning crew to scrub the entire property, as if she could just wash away the taint left here from the bloody Dark Lord. But other than that, she hasn't said anything about the War. Father just locks himself away in his study, and she pretends not to notice he is missing from meals and whatnot. She acts like everything is fine when it is clearly not fine, and so I act like everything's fine, when it is very much not fine, and Father just drinks it all away."

"Okay, so your parents are a mess." Blaise shrugged. "No big deal, so are most people's. Don't let that stop you from moving on and putting this shit behind you. Have you thought about applying for jobs yet?"

I shook my head. "Not yet, I think I need to fly under the radar for a while longer before people can forgive and forget enough to even consider hiring me. Besides, it isn't just my parent's holding me back, it's everything. I mean, Voldemort lived here. Just being here reminds me too much of the War and everything that happened. Every room seems to have its own list of awful memories." I couldn't go into the dining room without seeing Nagini slithering across the table to make a meal of a former Hogwarts professor, or the parlor without seeing the Dark Lord sitting there, Bellatrix by his side, or, Merlin, the drawing room…

"I've told you before, mate, you're always more than welcome to stay with me. Mum's barely there anyway, so we'd have the place pretty much to ourselves."

"I appreciate it, I do, but this is more than just the memories that haunt me here at the Manor. All of Wizarding England knows who I am, who I supported, who my father is, what I did. You don't know what it's like; you may have been a Slytherin, but you weren't a death eater. You don't know what it's like having people look at you the way they look at me whenever I go out. I see disgust, and fear. But nothing is as bad as when I run into an old acquaintance of my father's, and they ask me if I'll be continuing the 'family business'."

"Oh, hell," Blaise muttered.

"Tell me about it," I scoffed. "It's not just that I have too many poor memories in England; England has too many poor memories of me. I just wish I could take a break, get away for a while."

"Why can't you?"

I raised an eyebrow at Blaise. "My family is an absolute mess, I'm despised everywhere I go, I can't leave my mother alone; should I keep going?"

Blaise stood, waving his hand as though to brush away all of my reasons. "Those are weak excuses and you know it. Yeah, your family is a mess – like I said, so are most people's. You're despised everywhere you go in England, but people outside the country don't give a damn about you. And your mother will be fine without you. In fact, I would bet she'd be better off without you here for a while."

I blanched. "Are you suggesting I'm upsetting my mother?"

Blaise shrugged. "Not on purpose, but yes, I believe you are. Think about it, she almost lost you several times during the War. Every time she looks at you, she is probably reminded of that. You know how your mother is: overprotective of you and wanting to shelter you from anything bad. I'm sure that's the reason she is pretending everything is okay – because she thinks that's what's best for you. Maybe if you're gone for a bit, she can finally let herself be realistic and then she can really work on getting back to normal."

I huffed, refusing to acknowledge that he made good points. "So, what exactly are you proposing I do, Blaise? Pack up and leave the country?"

Blaise grinned, and not just any grin – I recognized it as his I-have-a-plan grin. "I am proposing you do exactly that. You said it yourself that you need to lay-low for a while; what better way to do that than leaving the country? It doesn't have to be forever, just the summer. Then, come fall, when everyone has had a bit more time you can buckle down and start figuring out what you want to do with your life."

I sank back onto my bed, contemplating the idea. It did sound tempting, getting away from all the reminders of the last few years, even if only for a summer. "Where would I even go?" I mumbled, more to myself.

Blaise was grinning again. "That's the best part. My family has a summer home in France, but my mother recently ended a nasty fling with a French beau, so she is boycotting the entire country. Anyway, the point is that the Zabini home in France is free all summer."

Now I was starting to understand his motivations, because, like any good Slytherin, something must have been in it for him. "And you would be joining me on this trip of course."

"Of course."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't know."

"Oh, come on, Draco! Think about it! French women, the beach, a summer away from this mess." I frowned, and Blaise turned serious once more. "I know that you haven't been yourself lately – probably in years if we're being honest. Ever since this all started, it's like you've had a dark cloud constantly hanging over you. You don't laugh or smile anymore, and, at risk of sounding like I actually care about you -" I scoffed "- I'm worried. I know you feel guilty about things that happened, and I know that you see yourself as one of the bad guys -" I was about to protest, but he held up a hand to stop me "- but you deserve to heal too. You've been through awful, terrible things, Draco, and you need to heal too. Look, you don't have to do anything you don't want to, I won't make you, but I really think some time away will be good for you."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, letting his words hang heavily in the air. Blaise was rarely serious, and he even less often showed blatant care or concern. For him to give a big, serious speech like that, it must have been something he had been thinking about for a while. Admittedly, whether or not I liked it, everything he had said had been accurate. I saw it in the black circles under my eyes, in my hollow cheeks, my even paler skin; I was exhausted, emotionally and physically, and I had been for years. I couldn't even remember the last time I felt whole, let alone happy.

With a heaving sigh that was perhaps a bit overdramatic, I relented. "Fine, I guess we're going to France."

XXX

My mother took the news of my coming trip surprisingly well - or at least she seemed to. With the way she had been bottling everything away lately, I suppose I wouldn't know if she were upset or not. Regardless, when I told her that Blaise and I planned to spend the summer in France, she showed me nothing but support.

"That sounds like a lovely idea, Draco," she smiled. "Just like when you two were children, spending the whole summer causing mischief."

I returned her smile tentatively. "Well, there won't be much mischief this summer; part of the reason for the trip is so I can fly under the radar and stay out of the news for a bit."

Her smile wavered for only a moment, as it did every time anything relating to our involvement in the War was brought up, but then she was quickly back to her strong self, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "Of course, but I do hope you are still able to enjoy yourself."

"Don't worry, I'm sure Blaise will keep me entertained," I said dryly. Blaise was infamous for his need to constantly be doing things and having fun. It was a rare day that he could simply sit still and be. The thought of him spending the day with a nice book – a near perfect day, in my opinion – was laughable.

My mother gave a soft twinkle of a laugh. "Oh, I have no doubt about that. May I ask what brought on the desire to take this trip so suddenly?"

I couldn't very well tell my mother that I needed a trip to get away from her, our home and our country in general. Luckily, my years of practice had a lie rolling easily off of my tongue without hesitation. "Well, I told Blaise that I was planning to start searching for a job in the near future, and he insisted on one more summer of fun before I entered the working world. Besides, I think it will be a great opportunity to make some of my own connections." The last part was actually true. I had been considering working with something relating to international relations and going to France was a perfect opportunity for me to begin networking. Plus, being able to say that I already had connections would be a benefit when I began applying for jobs, and, considering my history, I would need all of the help I could get.

"Oh, when did my young boy become so responsible, already planning for the future?" Mother wrapped me in a tight embrace, which I returned easily.

She was far from a short woman, but my recent growth left her head reaching just below my chin, which I rested on the crown of her head as I responded. "I suppose I had a good role model." There was no need for me to clarify about which parent I spoke, we both knew.

After a few more moments she pulled away and placed a soft hand on my cheek. "I hope you find everything you need in this trip, my Draco," she whispered. "It would be nice to see you whole again."

Embarrassingly, I felt a lump forming in my throat. I swallowed past it, annoyed. "Thank you, Mum."

XXX

I waited until the day I was leaving to tell my father where I would be spending the summer. I chose late morning, thinking it would be the best time. Typically, he was just waking up, so he was hungover, but also the most sober he ever was these days. This conversation would be bad no matter what, but at least it would be more tolerable if he were somewhat sober. Hopefully he would be more subdued and less likely to throw something.

Stealing myself, I rapped quickly on his study door before letting myself in. I avoided my father and his study as much as possible, so it had been weeks since I had been in the room. It smelled just as terrible as I had remembered, and, in the dim light peeking through the curtains, I could see just enough to tell that the garbage piles around the room had only grown in size.

My father was sitting with his elbows propped on his desk, head resting in his hands. His hair, normally the same shade as mine, was even paler than normal, hanging greasy and lifeless around his face. His robes were stained, torn, and looked like they hadn't been changed in a few days. He looked absolutely retched.

He hadn't looked up upon my entrance, but I could tell from his irregular breathing that he was awake. I cleared my throat. "Father?"

Slowly, he lowered his hands away and raised his empty eyes to regard me coolly. He desperately needed a shave, and he had bags under his eyes that made mine look like nothing. "Draco," he croaked.

I took a hesitant step toward him. No sense beating around the bush or dragging this out any longer than I needed to. "I wanted to inform you that I would be away for the duration of the summer, beginning today."

He narrowed his eyes at me, raising his chin ever so slightly. I knew that look, and it wasn't one I associated with particularly happy memories of my father. "Away…?" he drawled.

I swallowed, wiping my suddenly damp hands on the back of my trousers. "Yes, I will be spending the summer with Blaise at the Zabini's home in France."

"France? You are going to France?" His tone was growing dangerous, and I should have seen that as the warning it was, like the bright colors of a poisonous animal; a blaring sign, reading "danger ahead" that I ignored.

"Yes, I thought it may be a good opportunity to make connections and –"

My father cut me off with a slam of his fist against the table as he quickly rose from the chair. His rapid movements caused the chair to upend, clattering loudly to the ground. "YOU DARE ABANDON YOUR MOTHER AND I LIKE THIS?" he bellowed. Only my years of experience kept me from flinching. "We are in our greatest time of need," he continued through clenched teeth, "and you choose to leave us?! You spoiled, insulant child! After everything we have done for you, the things I sacrificed to give you such opportunities. You could have been second in command to the Dark Lord! But you have never appreciated such things. You take advantage of your parents, again and again, like the selfish brat you are."

I forced myself to remain calm. My father had never been the kindest man, but the drinking and his time in Azkaban made it much worse. At times he could be nearly delusional, and he often lost his ability to rationalize, consumed by his emotions, which mostly consisted of anger. As calmly as I could, I said, "Father, I do not mean to abandon you; I am going to France to attempt to make myself more attractive to – " but he cut me off again, this time with an empty liquor bottle thrown at me, missing my head by inches and shattering against the wall behind me.

"ENOUGH!" he screamed. "I have heard enough out of you, boy. Get out of my sight before I lose my temper."

Knowing there was no way to salvage this battle, I hastily made my exit, shutting the door on the sound of more bottles breaking. So much for catching him at a good time.

I didn't worry much about my father or his opinion on my travels. He'd likely forget about this exchange by tomorrow, and it was possible he may not even realize I was gone at all. I told myself the things he had said weren't true – just the ramblings of a broken, bitter man, that they didn't bother me – but it was difficult to ignore the dull ache in my chest as I retrieved my trunk and prepared to say my goodbyes to my mother.

Saying goodbye to my mother went much more smoothly than things had with my father. Tears glossed over her eyes, but she was smiling, and it seemed genuine. "Please be safe," she whispered as she pulled me close.

I squeezed my arms tightly around her in response. "I will, Mum, I promise."

She held me for another minute before letting me go. She was still wearing her watery smile as she said, "I want so much for you, Draco. So much more than your father and I had. You deserve a full life, with friends – real friends – and a beautiful, kind wife who will give you beautiful, happy babies. You deserve a happy home, a meaningful career. I just want you to have a full life, Draco, and I truly believe this summer will be where that life starts for you." The tears that had been clinging to her eyes now streamed delicately down her cheeks. "Promise me you will pursue that life with everything in you, for me."

I had no idea how to even begin to do such a thing, but seeing how much it meant to my mother, I said, "I promise."

Goodbyes completed, I apparated to Blaise's house. His home was connected directly by floo to his home in France, so that was the easiest way to get there. He was waiting for me in his parlor, his trunk in hand. I could practically feel the excitement coming off of him in waves as he stood there, grinning ear to ear. "Took you long enough," he teased, the grin never even slipping.

I rolled my eyes. "Apologies, things went a little rough with my father."

Even this only caused the slightest of drops in his smile. "Well, no bother with that now. From here on out, this is a worry-free trip." Grabbing a fistful of floo powder from his mantle, he backed into the large fireplace. "So, what do you say, Drake? Ready to embark on the adventure of your lifetime?" Before I could respond, he went up in a burst of green flames and was gone.

I sighed, following in his footsteps. Well, I thought, letting the powder fall from my hand, here goes nothing.

XXX

There ya have it, chapter two! I hope my portrayal of Draco isn't too OOC, and anything that seems to be a little off I try to justify with context/backstory. Let me know what you think though, because I love to hear any constructive feedback! Also, a few little personal disclaimers here. First, I'm American, so my writing is going to be American. I try to make the dialogue a little more British (mum, mate, etc.) for authenticity, but go easy on me here! Second, I have never been to France and my extent of French knowledge comes from my five years of taking French in high school, which was a couple years ago now. I try to skim the surface enough and compensate with research when needed so that it shouldn't affect the story, but I apologize in advance for any inaccuracies or anything that doesn't seem authentic.

Once again, reviews are greatly appreciated, and I would love to hear any thoughts you guys have! Next chapter should be up next week.

Thanks for reading!