Here's a new chapter! You know the drill of author notes, I'm not gonna repeat myself, see previous chapters. And enjoy!

Chapter 5:

Lorelai woke up extremely chirpy the next morning. Everything felt amazing. Until she remembered it was Friday, which meant Friday night dinner, which meant hell. Still, it was a pretty day. It was sunny, warm, spring was blooming and she and Narcissa had big plans for today.

She quickly bounced downstairs to find Rory reading the newspaper and having a vat of coffee, ready to go to Chilton. Lorelai pranced some more around the room and twirled in the direction of the coffee maker.

"Today, ladies and gentlemen, today, the great artist in front of you is going to let her imagination and skill loose again. Today, you will be greeted with an amazing, exceptional, outstanding performance by Lorelai Victoria Gilmore," she declared.

"Mom, you're just going to paint rooms. You're not the next Renoir," Rory sighed.

Lorelai gave her a pointed look. "Well, aren't you Miss Sunshine this morning."

Rory rolled her eyes and gestured towards her uniform, not even bothering to form a sentence.

"Ah, Chilton, the wonderful Chilton. I thought you liked it there? Besides you only have a half day today."

"I like the classes. I don't particularly enjoy being the dartboard to Paris' darts. I've been there more than six months and she still hates me with a passion," Rory groaned.

"Yes but that's because of-" Lorelai was cut off quickly.

"Shut up."

"But-"

"Forbidden topic! The mere name shall not be mentioned! No reference shall be used!

"I was gonna say your superior intelligence!" Lorelai countered. "I wasn't gonna talk about Bible Boy! Oops," she smiled with false sweetness.

"What's Bible Boy?" another voice asked from the door. Rory's head thumped on the table as she mumbled "The name of a new torture device."

Lorelai tsked and turned her laughing eyes towards Narcissa. "It's a good story, I'll tell you while I train to become Chagall and you Rembrandt."

The blonde woman narrowed her eyes. "Why do you get to be Chagall?"

"Because he painted floating trains," she replied as if that explained anything.

Rory rolled her eyes and departed for school as the two women continued their debate over coffee.

One or two hours later, after all the coffee in the Gilmore house had vanished, they decided to move next door where there was coffee, and to actually start their big project.

"So, what kind of colours did you choose?" Lorelai asked eying the pots adoringly.

"Old pink for my room, a pastel green for the living room and foyer, a soft shade of blue for the kitchen, terracotta for the dining room, Draco's room is undecided, and a forest green for the attic," Narcissa numbered using her fingers.

"You're painting the attic?"

"Yeah, I want the whole house to be pretty, even where I put the not pretty things that I don't want anymore," Narcissa joked, not about to admit to Lorelai that the spacious space under the roof would be filled with quite unusual books and objects and bubbling cauldrons.

"Amen sister. Where should we start? Your room perhaps."

Narcissa heartedly agreed and they set to work… or something resembling it.

Snape watched Albus out of the corner of his eye and waited. The headmaster had decided to send the boys to bed the previous night so the problem was being dealt with now, on this freezing, cloudy Friday morning which Snape usually enjoyed as he didn't have to teach.

Of course, today had to be spoiled. When he had had an awful week dealing with his house, here he was, having to once again step in. Sometimes he wondered why on earth he had accepted to be head of house. He had to have a death wish or something.

Yes, that had to be it. Forget that Snape was the only Slytherin teacher back when he had been asked and that Dumbledore always managed to get what he wanted from people. Severus rolled his eyes and focused on the two teenagers sitting in front of Albus' desk.

Draco's face was vacant of expression. He looked bored but that's all his body language let know. Blaise, on the other hand, was fidgety and nervous. Snape nearly smirked at that. Not that he was on his godson's side but Blaise had a tendency to play bigger than he could handle and obviously, a trip to the headmaster's office is something the black haired boy hadn't counted on and didn't like one bit.

"I'm still waiting for an explanation," Albus said in his very soft voice, the one that sent creeps down your spine and usually made you tell everything.

"It was just a small argument, Sir," Blaise stuttered, very uncomfortable in Dumbledore's office where he had never been before.

"I know it was an argument, Mr. Zabini. However, I would like to know why there was one in the first place. Mr Malfoy?"

Draco rolled his eyes and slouched further in his chair. "He insulted my mother and I; I punched him."

"I didn't insult anyone!"

"Really? Implying that my mother is a whore wasn't insulting?" Draco snarled.

"I didn't-"

"Save it Zabini."

"Calm down, the both of you. Mr Zabini, did you or did you not say something that could have been interpreted that way?"

Baise squirmed under the boring gaze of the headmaster. "Well, sort of."

"I see," the old professor sighed, looking very tired and annoyed. "I am very disappointed in you. You've been a good student ever since you start Hogwarts. Passable grades, hardly any detention, and certainly no trip to my office under such circumstances. Nevertheless, in the past week, you've gone out of your way to bring your classmate into fights. As I can't quite fathom the reason, you will write me an essay as to why. Three rolls of parchement to be on my desk by the end of the weekend. And you will, of course, serve detention, starting tonight with Hagrid. I believe there's a problem with an infestation of Chizpurfles in the north tower; they keep eating Trelawney's crystal balls. Drives her crazy," he ended with what could be considered a slight smile. "You may go."

Blaise didn't wait for anymore instructions and practically flew from the office, not even hovering behind the door to hear about the fate that would befall Draco.

The headmaster finally turned to the blonde boy. "Mr Malfoy, I warned you, not even a week ago."

"I'm aware, Sir." The reply was cold and unfazed.

"I'm sorry we have come this far. I'm going to have to discuss with the staff what to do with you. In the meanwhile, you will live with the headboy and headgirl. They share a dormitory. You of course understand why you're not going back to your own house."

Draco's face didn't change but Severus noticed he was clenching his fists. "You really think I'm going to move in with two lunatics?"

"Draco, go pack your stuff now. This is not open to discussion," Snape gritted through his clenched teeth. He knew that he had power over the boy and it was about time he used it. He sighed as Draco stormed down the stairs and slumped in an armchair. If he only could have had classes to give that morning.

Draco was glad to find empty hallways and an empty common room. But after all, everyone was in class. He smiled: it made everything much easier.

It didn't take him long to throw everything he owned in his trunk and his book bag, shrinking the whole and stuffing it into his pocket so that he would not have to lug it around. He stepped out of the common room again without looking back and headed for the statue of the witch that hid the passage to Honeydukes.

His first stop would be Gringotts: he would need American money.

Then after a quick stop at the bookstore (he could rarely resist), he set off for the portkey station, ignoring the curious glances the crowd was throwing him. Thankfully, none of the articles had contained a picture of him and people were just wondering if he was the Malfoy kid or not.

Once in the waiting room, he pulled out one of his mother's letters. He didn't really know where Stars Hollow was and he doubted that the tiny loony bin was on any map at all. He perused the letter and found what he wanted: Hartford, Connecticut. Closest city. He would manage from there… or so he hoped.

Not that he would ever admit it, but he was terrified. He didn't know where he was going, nor how he was getting there and even less what he would find once there. He briefly wondered if Hogwart's staff had already realized he was gone. He doubted it: they probably thought he had hidden in a corner to sulk.

The queue eventually advanced and he soon found himself in front of a till.

"Where you goin' sweets?" asked the tarty cashier.

He frowned, repulsed. "Hartford, Connecticut."

"Ah, Oz Avenue it is then darling," she sang cheerfully, ignoring his murderous glare as he handed her the fee.

He grabbed his ticket and crossed the room to sit as far as possible from the cashier, not noticing the man sitting across him immediately. The 35 year old on the other hand, recognized him instantly but didn't dare say anything: he knew the kid would have his head if he pronounced the fated Malfoy name.

Draco eventually saw him. His education couldn't really let him ignore the man so he sighed and spoke up. "Morning professor Lupin."

Remus smiled. "Good morning Draco, are you lost?"

The teenager raised his eyebrows. "Lost?"

"Well, you're supposed to be in Hogwarts right now."

"Well, I'm not," the boy mimicked insolently.

"Well, should I drag you back there then?"

"Well, how about you go wherever you're going, and I do the same and we stop using the word 'well' once and for all."

"Very well," Remus replied, stressing the last word, amused with the boy. Truth was, that kid was insufferable, and most people were offended at his insolence and cynicism, but Remus Lupin was not most people.

The metallic voice announcing portkey transfers called for Hartford passengers and Draco got up, noticing that his former teacher was doing the same. Lupin laughed, which annoyed him to no end.

"Well, it looks like we're going the same way young man."

Draco glowered but didn't reply. It would be over in less than two or three seconds so he didn't really care if the werewolf was going to Hartford. He had other things more important to think about. Nevertheless, he was careful to lose him in the crowd before heading for information. He needed to find that stupid little town.

Information gave him a bus ticket, a bus line to take and how to get to said bus. And now, here he was, standing in front of a muggle bus. A muggle bus. Malfoys don't take muggle busses.

However, he didn't have a choice. Furthermore, Malfoys did or did not do a lot of things and that hadn't turned out so swell for his father. And on top of it all, he was not a baby, nor a sheltered little prick and he would step into the damn thing and stop being so pathetic.

He mentally smacked himself and smiled back at the driver, forgetting that Malfoys don't smile. The bus finally shook itself awake and started to move. It was much more peaceful than the Knight Bus, Draco noticed and he was actually feeling good about that.

It was noon, even though his watch indicated five in the afternoon. He quickly set it right and wondered how it was possible it was already so late in England. He had left mid morning. Ah, now he remembered: he had bought two new potions books. He grinned and his gaze shifted outside the window.

The bus stopped every five minutes and it was annoying, but Draco wasn't sure he cared. He was away from boring glances. No one here knew him, he was just a regular person on a bus and nobody gave a damn about his family, nobody talked to him.

The bus stopped in front of a very busy place and Draco awoke from his daze and looked around. It was a school.

"Gilmore, stop right there!" a sharp voice caught his attention. A blonde girl was stalking towards the bus in which a brunette girl was climbing.

"What Paris?"

"We're not over, let me tell you," the girl spat out hatefully. "You're on top of my hate list, Rory Gilmore. Up there with my Rabbi, I hope you get along with him."

"Yeah, I have insightful conversations about you with him," Rory quipped.

The bus driver bit back a grin and ordered her to get on or get out. She climbed the rest of the stairs and plopped down on a seat, mockingly waving goodbye to the fuming Paris girl. Soon she was absorbed in a book and didn't notice anything pass by, nor did she notice the blonde boy staring at her.

Draco was sure it was the Rory Gilmore his mother had mentioned in a letter. Lorelai's daughter. How many Rory Gilmore could there be in Hartford and climbing in a bus to Stars Hollow? He hoped not many, or he was about to splendidly humiliate himself.

He slid in the seat in front of her and turned around to look at her. She hadn't noticed anything.

"Hello."

She jumped a foot high before catching her breath and looking at him. "You never do that to someone who reads!"

He smirked "I know, I've told that to my best friend a million times but she keeps doing it so I thought it had be a good way to have your attention."

Now Rory was eyeing him with interest. Blonde hair and blue eyes with a definite British accent sounded way too déjà-vu. "I thought you were supposed to be in Scotland," she shyly said, not sure it was actually him.

His smirk widened at her embarrassment. "Ah, so you are the Rory my mother wrote about."

She nodded "Whatever horrible thing she said is a complete lie."

"I'll see."

"Wait, does your mom know you're here?" Now she was surprised. Narcissa would have said something, she would have been anticipating it, not painting herself and Lorelai in various hues.

"The look on your face tells me you already have your answer. And whatever horrible thing my mother said about me is completely true."

"Ah, so you do like cross-dressing!" she exclaimed triumphally.

He raised his eyebrows but he knew she was joking and it was refreshing to have someone actually joke and not stone him. "Yeah, I always knew my feminine side was dominant."

"Proves you're smart. Males are stupid," she tucked her hair behind her ear and smirked.

"I'm flattered."

"Whatever feels right to you."

Talking with Rory made the trip come to a very short and abrupt end. The bus pulled in front of Stars Hollow High and made all his doubts come back. Was he right to have left Hogwarts? What would his mother say anyway? He frowned and followed Rory down the street. She was still casually chatting with him.

"So you like coffee?" He nodded and she clapped happily "Let's go to Luke's then! Oh, unless you want to go home immediately." Her face fell slightly at the thought that she had to get him there and would have to forfeit the coffee.

"No, let's get coffee. I haven't had any since this morning and I'm bordering withdrawal."

"Well, let's fix this then."

"Luke, we painted all morning, we need sustenance!"

"I'll give you a cheeseburger, that's actual sustenance."

"Luke!"

"Narcissa!"

Lorelai laughed, it was too funny to see that Narcissa was her young padawan in the art of Annoying Luke Till His Ears Popped and Smoked.

"I'm busy, I don't have time to deal with you two," Luke grumbled. Except that the diner was empty, apart from the two teenagers standing next to the door, watching the scene with interest.

"Give us coffee and we'll leave!" Lorelai promised.

"At least, give us coffee, we don't annoy you!" Rory chided in.

"And neither of us are going to get on our knees and grab your leg," Draco added, looking at his mother who was sitting on Luke's foot.

Narcissa's head shot up at the sound of his voice and her face broke into a smile. "What, it works!" she exclaimed, knowing he was definitely not one for tearful reunions.

"Obviously," her son drawled pointing at her empty cup.

"You interrupted the process at a crucial moment; he was about to break."

Draco gave her a blank stare and plopped on a seat, ignoring the fact that Lorelai was looking at him. Narcissa finally let go of Luke's leg and sat down next to her offspring, knowing very well that he shouldn't be there. Luke had stopped eyeing Rory's 'friend' suspiciously and gave everyone coffee, to the delight of Lorelai who squealed and cooed happily to her cup till Rory threatened to take it away.

"Are you going to tell me what on earth you're doing here or do I have to call Dumbledore?"

Draco looked at her with his best Bambi eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said sweetly.

"You know very well. You're supposed to be in school, not to show up here," she said coldly. She was happy he was there, but she was worried something was wrong at school. She watched him squirm: he was well aware that she was not joking about it.

"People kept getting me into trouble, I got fed up, I left," he summarized and gulped down his coffee. "This is really good."

"What kind of trouble?" Narcissa inquired, searching his face for indications and of course, finding none but pure contentment for the coffee.

"Oh, a few words, a few brawls and the headmaster was on my back. I couldn't handle it anymore," he shrugged, not wanting to let her know just how much the whole matter was affecting him.

The blonde woman sighed, aware what "it" meant. She should have known better than leave Draco behind with all that mess erupting around them. "Alright, I'm gonna call Albus. You stay here if you want." Draco nodded, knowing that one cup was not going to fix his caffeine low.

Lorelai looked at her friend with concern. "I'm coming with you Cissa. Rory and Draco can join us later. And isn't it great, now we have help to finish painting!" she giggled and grabbed her friend's arm.

Narcissa inwardly sighed. Lorelai being there, she couldn't contact the headmaster through the fireplace. She would have to pretend to call him and get the imaginary secretary to tell her he wasn't available right now and try later.

"You look troubled," Lorelai broke the silence.

"It's nothing. I guess I'm just tired."

"Yeah, the exhaustion of a day doing nothing," Lorelai cut sarcastically.

"Draco's not supposed to be here. He cut school and ran away." Narcissa replied tiredly. "I should never have left him behind. How could I have been so selfish and so naïve? How could have I thought he would be fine? I'm a horrible mother!" she cried out as she slumped on her porch stairs.

Lorelai joined her. "Okay, enough. What's up with you? What's wrong? And what happened in England? And don't say nothing."

"I don't want to talk about it," Narcissa groaned, unhappy that the life she had left behind was following her everywhere.

"I do. I'm your friend; you can talk to me. You're bubbly and happy but at the same time, you seem lonely and weighed down and I can't seem to understand why. I'll give you a cookie if you talk to me," Lorelai nudged her softly.

"Chocolate chip?"

"Well, I'm sure I can arrange that."

Narcissa sighed and braced herself. Maybe talking to a friend would help her see things with more perspective? It had made her feel better to tell Bill the whole story and he had done everything he could to support her and encourage her. Lorelai was as good a friend as Bill.

She leaned back and closed her eyes, letting the sun bathe her somewhat painted face. "I was forced into marriage as soon as I graduated from school. My parents had arranged it with another rich family. I hated their son and everything he stood for. Thankfully, he wasn't asking a lot from me: he just wanted me to be a perfect trophee wife and to produce an heir. After Draco was born, he completely lost interest in me."

Lorelai whistled. "I knew you were a product of the screwed up high society."

Narcissa chuckled and continued. "I didn't care that Lucius left me alone. I was happy with that actually. I had my kid and it was all that mattered. But when Draco was four, Lucius decided it was time to start "educating" his heir… to be an improved copy of himself."

"Lucius said I was too soft and he decided to counter that. He was strict, had no flexibility whatsoever. I stood against him all the time." Now she was growing incomfortable. She was babbling to delay the dreadful revelations but she knew she was only buying herself time.

"What happened then?" Lorelai asked softly, not wanting her friend to freeze and back out of talking.

"He hit me." There, done. "Once, then twice, then regularly. Everytime I would disagree with him or displease him, he wouldn't suavely talk me out of my opinion anymore, he would just plainly treat me like a dog. Way later, I discovered he was violent with Draco too. I wasn't sure what to do and I thought I wouldn't be able to do anything anyway. Draco was starting boarding school the next year anyway, so he would be fine. Again, I was mistaken."

"Last year I let it slip to one of my friends whose father works for the ministry. He encouraged me to go to justice and to get myself and my son out of this hell. I hesitated for weeks. Finally, I drank a whole bottle of whiskey to give me strength and dragged my husband to court. Then I got a divorce, and I left."

The two friends sat in silence for a while. Lorelai absorbing the information and Narcissa meditating on the past. She finally broke the silence. "I let 16 years of my life go to waste, I let him screw up my kid and then, I left Draco alone behind to pick up the pieces of his life while I was having fun here. How can he not hate me? I'm despicable."

"Look, I could tell you that it's not true but you wouldn't believe, so how about we paint that living room of yours and you talk to your kiddo tonight? He wouldn't have come here if he hated you."

"Okay. But this time, I want to be Chagall."

Remus Lupin changed discs and sat back on his weary little couch. He tried to let the jazz sweep him away, but his mind stubbornly refused to cooperate. He was annoyed at himself for letting that throw him off balance.

So what if he had met Draco at the portkey station?

Truth was, he had been surprised when the teenager had gotten up at the Hartford announcement. What was he doing, going there? Severus had said that Narcissa had changed countries but United-States? And Connecticut?

Remus had never been one to believe in signs and destiny and that kind of silly things Trelawney was so fond of. He refused to think that his fate was mapped out from the beginning.

But that was one hell of a coincidence, and he was confused about it.

The boy had disappeared in the crowd. Then, Remus had spotted him buying a bus ticket. He nearly thought he was having a hallucination: Draco Malfoy, spawn extraordinary of Death Eater number One, was going to actually put a foot in a muggle bus?

The answer had been yes. Draco had climbed the stairs of the bus, smiled at the driver and had his ticket punched before taking a seat, all of this like a perfect little muggle teenager.

It couldn't be possible, could it? But if it was indeed the case, what did that imply? What would he do? He had already been stupid enough to take that job at Hogwarts. He had lasted one year but it had been painful, so painful. He wasn't sure he would have kept it till the end of the year if it hadn't been for the Sirius thing and Harry.

He had fled England, left Hogwarts behind under the pretence that parents wouldn't want a werewolf teaching their kids. It had broken his heart to lie to Harry, but he knew he couldn't stay in that school.

Oz Avenue had welcomed him warmly. People were a lot more open-minded about werewolves over here than in the UK. He had found a great job, he had a cosy little flat upstairs from the shop, his colleagues had become his friends and he loved his life as it was.

And now, that. Oh Merlin.

If the remaining Malfoys were around, it would only be a matter of time… and he wasn't sure he was anywhere near ready to face this.