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.

Thanks, I'll post more tonight.

HEY! i'm loving it! you're so good at capturing the scene and the mood! I can't wait until the next chapter!

<3 Sarah

Thanks for your comments
Here is some more

This is part two of the first chapter

For the first time in his life Draco was surrounded by witches and wizards who were dressed as well, if not better than himself. He recognised more than one wizard designer label among the cloaks that swished past him as he walked up the steps and through the front doors. A young woman approached Draco wearing ‘Kikono’; a brand that his own mother had preferred. The witches black heels clicked on the marble flooring of the entrance way and she pushed back the glittering material of a sheer cape with one manicured hand to extend her arm and grip Draco’s fingers. Then she surprised him by drawing him into an embrace and kissing both cheeks.

“I am Adrianne Zabini, Mr Malfoy; your new assistant,” she explained in English that was rolled in a heavy French accent.

“Zabini? Any relation to Blaise?” asked Malfoy.

She nodded, and in her gesture Draco detected a hint of distaste. The English Zabini family had been disgraced by its association with Voldemort. “My cousin,” Adrianne confirmed.

That explained the almond eyes and fine cheek bones that made Adrienne look more like a super model than a Ministry secretary.

He was really going to like this place.

Adrienne led him through the foyer and over to a row of elevators, waving her hand now and then at some of the more interesting decorations, or occupants of the Ministry building. Draco nodded and looked dutifully in the directions she indicated, though he was far more interested in the deep red mouth that was uttering the monologue.

They entered the lift and Draco felt a shiver travel up his arm as his hand brushed the soft silky material of Adrienne’s black skirt. It was all he could do to preserve the practiced cool and calm of his exterior. He had never met such an exceptionally fine woman. She couldn’t be more than a few years older than him.

Then they were stepping out of the lift onto a beautiful tied floor. Adrienne introduced Draco to the witch at a reception desk and then led him past her to his new office suite. It looked newly redecorated and had modern furnishings.

“I hope you like the new look. I designed it myself,” said Adrienne, noticing his appraising glances.

Draco nodded again. He had to admit he was impressed.

His new assistant showed him his private office. It was large, light and sunny with a huge window looking down from several storeys onto a lovely park complete with fountain. Draco made himself at home, sitting in the leather chair behind a mahogany desk and indicated with a wave that Adrienne should also sit.

This seemed to unsettle Adrienne. “I thought you would need some time to settle in to your new position, so I haven’t made any appointments for you today.”

“Quite unneccessary,” said Draco, though he regretted the words the moment they left his lips. He had intended to sound confident, not arrogant, as he had done. He turned his chair with the pretence of looking at the view out his window to hide his embarrassment. He was painfully aware of his young age and determined to prove himself capable of the position, even though he was currently quite ignorant of his duties. But he had bluffed his way through more difficult situations than this. Even the dark Lord had been fooled into believing Draco knew more than he did.

Draco took a calming breath. Fortunately those days were over and he doubted that he could face anything more dangerous than a paper-cut in this position.

Adrienne had sat up quite straight at his cutting remark, a chagrined look marring her fine features. “My appologies Mr Malfoy. We’ve all been a little shaken by the sudden departure of Mr Thompson,” she said.

Draco swivelled in his chair to face her directly. He was more than a little interested in his predecessor. Why would anyone want to leave a sweet deal like this? He wondered.

“Ah … did Mr Thompson leave any unfinished business?” Draco inquired, hoping to sound casual.

His assistant’s reaction was more than little unsettling. She turned her stunning almond eyes to him, her face an image of surprise. “You did not hear?” she said, “Mr Thompson was murdered.”

Hey Jen,

I've just caught up and I thought the story is great so far and you've left us with a cliffie.

Can't wait to read more.
PAMS
Mel
xoxo

good story. smart leaving a cliff hanger at the end of a chapter.

He he, I want you to read on!
More tomorrow.

OK I've got some more for you. This is as far as I've written to date, but I'll get a heap more written on the weekend.
Two Years Later
Chapter Two

All pretence at being cool, calm and collected went out the window. Draco’s eyebrows shot up into his hair line in surprise.

‘Murdered?’ he said. Much to his annoyance his voice caught in mid-word and shot up an octave. He hadn’t sounded so stupid since his voice had broken.

Adrienne looked just as surprised by his reaction. Then she bit her bottom lip and smiled mischieviosly. ‘I suppose the English Embassy has kept it quiet. No?’

Despite still feeling a bit foolish, Draco was even more taken with this French woman’s appeal. The way her teeth caught on her bottom lip, the way one eyebrow raised with impish cheek, the French lilt to her voice … Draco had to mentally shake himself to stay in the moment. What she was saying was deadly serious … deadly!

‘What on Earth happened to him?’ asked Draco. He should have thought more carefully about his question. He could have asked her what current investigations had unearthed. He was sounding like a school boy. I need to get a grip on myself, he thought.

‘Could you please pull up the file on the incident?’ he tried again. Pleased that his voice stayed low and steady.

Adrienne looked at her neat nails before answering. ‘I’m afraid zis is your first order of business Mr Malfoy – to file the report on Mr Thompson.’

Draco studied her embarrassed pose. This was awkward for her. Surely the French had their own aurors that would deal with such matters? He voiced his question, being careful to phrase it in a professional manner.

‘They have indeed been to the scene of the crime many times. It seems every time they try to lodge a report, the information disappears,’ Adrienne said, looking at him once more. Draco noticed her eyes were as blue as his own. She did indeed have the same striking features as her cousin Blaise, yet her colouring was much lighter. Blue eyes, blonde hair, Draco found himself wondering if they could be distantly related as well. He certainly hoped not. Stay focused! He warned himself.

‘So there is absolutely no written evidence?’ Draco thought carefully. ‘Then I believe I need to make an appointment to see the aurors conducting the investigation.’

His French assistant looked at her nails again. Malfoy was beginning to think this was a sign Adrienne was not only embarrassed, but hiding something. ‘I’m afraid that is impossible,’ she said ‘they have also disappeared.’

Malfoy sighed. Well it figured. This job was turning out to be much more difficult than he had imagined. Still, he was sure he would carry it off. People naturally looked up to and respected the Malfoy family. And besides, the job has its perks, he thought taking in another good eye full of his lovely assistant.
He took a moment to think about the situation. With no paper work and no one to give him information in person, he needed to visit the scene. ‘Where did Mr Thompson die?’ Draco asked. He could have kicked himself. Once again he had spoken before really taking enough time to formulate a convincing tone.

Adrienne didn’t’ seem to notice. She explained with very little register of surprise. ‘He was visiting the St Lerome Memorial for fallen wizards and witches. Mr Thompson often placed a wreath there on DD Day,’ she said.

‘DD day?’ Draco asked.

“Dumbledore Day. It is ze day we French people acknowledge the victory of Albus Dumbledore over the dark wizard Grindlewald. You do not have this day in England?’ Adrienne replied with a delightful tilt to her head.

Draco snorted in a most undignified way. He hadn’t meant to mock the French celebration, but he was so amused that they would name a holiday after that old fraud. Dumbledore had proved not to be infallible after all. He shuddered as he remembered that night on the Astronomy tower. To think he had almost committed murder himself. But all he wanted to do was forget those days. So he pushed all thoughts of Dumbledore out of his head and decided to forget what DD Day even stood for. It could mean Deadly Dingbats for all he cared.

I promise I'll write more this weekend to put up Monday at the latest.
I'm really glad everyone seems to be enjoying it.

Hey Jen ooh look I can post here. Excellent yet again I love that last line "Deadly Dingbats" - priceless lol. Keep it coming girl.

Mel

thanks, I hope to get some more done tonight.

Chapter two /Part two
enjoy

“Could you please call my staff car and tell him we will be leaving for the memorial immediately.”

He watched her leave his new office, her hips swinging as she walked in that silky skirt. She made it very difficult to concentrate.

Finally on his own, Draco had a good look about the office. He opened draws and cupboards only to discover that there was very little there. All the things that his predecessor had left behind had been removed and replaced with the barest minimum of office supplies. It was almost as if the French ministry didn’t expect him to last long.

Suddenly it made sense. Malfoy hadn’t been appointed to be the youngest minister because of his brilliance – he was a filler until the mystery of Mr Thompson’s death was uncovered. Perhaps the English even hoped that whatever had killed Mr Thompson would do away with him too. That would suit the English Ministry. In the papers it would appear that the Ministry were giving him a chance to move on when in reality the situation could very neatly do away with another Malfoy.

Of course there was no way Draco would stand for that!

In the top drawer of the desk was a beautiful leather bound diary. There was no doubt that Adrienne had chosen it. Draco opened the book and found the date. He wrote everything he knew so far on today’s page and muttered to himself as he worked.

“Fact number one; Mr Thompson found dead at St Lerome Memorial. Fact two; auror reports missing. Fact three; auror’s missing.” It wasn’t much and Draco realised he didn’t know anything about the aurors working on the case. He even had no idea how many there were.

Adrienne knocked on his door and entered without waiting to be invited.
“The car is waiting out the front, sir,” she said.

Draco like being called ‘sir’. It wasn’t a position he was willing to give up easily, especially to an untimely death. He knew he would need to be careful.

He followed his personal assistant out into the foyer and down to the waiting car. With pleasure Draco watched Adrienne slide into the back of the car and he shuffled in next to her.

“It’s not far,” said Adrienne as the car pulled out and carried them down the crowded streets of Paris.

The scenery slipped by outside the car. It was pleasant enough, but it was difficult to enjoy it with so many distractions. Malfoy really had no idea what he would do when they arrived. At least he was doing something.

Late in the afternoon the car pulled up beside a tall metal fence, each railing painted black and ending in a wicked spike. Even before he opened the car door Draco felt the temperature drop.

“What a cheery place,” he said sarcastically.

They stood on the pavement looking into the memorial park. Even though there was not a cloud in the sky the memorial park seemed to be a dim place. The white stone pathway from the front gate led down to a large monolith on which the names of the fallen had been carved. At it’s base an assortment of flower wreaths were decaying gently to a brown sludgy mass. Draco wondered if Mr Thompson had placed one of those wreaths, and if so, how long ago? And Arranged in a circle around the outside of the pathway were five white stone statues depicting witches and wizards in sorrowful poses, lamenting the dead.

“Well, we won’t learn much standing out here,” Draco said cheerfully and marched purposefully through the tall iron gates.

Thanks very much. I'm nearly finished the next part.

Another great post Jen, I'm just wondering whether this Adrienne can be trusted and Draco's become a detective lol. Well he can search me antime.

Mel

new reader!this fanfic is really good!

HELLO!!! ya... sorry i haven't posted up a comment... been really busy!

But now i am YAY!

I'm in love with the story. I like how its finally a story about Draco's side and not what happened to Harry, Ron, Hermion, and Ginny and all them people! I love it. Keep up the great work!

Love,
Sarah

nice posts!
I hope that secretary isnt related to Malfoy....
-Kim

Just a little more to keep you interested...And thanks new readers!

Adrienne’s heels clicked on the white stone as she followed him into the memorial park.

“Park? This is more like a graveyard than a park” Draco muttered.

“I beg your pardon?” Adrienne asked. Her voice was small and frightened.

Somehow her fear made him feel courageous. He had faced an army of death eaters and survived. What could be in this open, deserted place to frighten him?

Malfoy scanned the enclosure. It was deserted. It looked as if no one had entered for a long time and if hadn’t been for the browning roses, Draco would have believed no one ever came here. He followed the path around to the other side of the monolith, looking back towards the gates. His gaze travelled upwards to the statues. Their eyes seemed to glare at him.

“Hang on! Those statues were facing the other way!” Malfoy cried. He skirted around to where Adrienne stood, never taking his eyes off the two statues he could see without turning. They stood immobile and soon he was staring at their backs.

“What did you say?” Adrienne whispered nervously.

Malfoy backed up further down the path to where he could see all five statues. Two were facing away, looking to the back of the enclosure; the other three were