Chapter Text
Expectation and responsibility had suffocated Draco Malfoy for the majority of his adolescent life. His upbringing caused him to loyally follow his parents down the path of no return. He didn't follow blindly. His eyes were always wide open to the horrors that surrounded them, but the obligation of expectation, responsibility, and the need to survive kept him from speaking up. His father would not have looked kindly on his only son sympathizing with the boy who lived and his followers. His first act of rebellion came when he couldn't kill Dumbledore. He just didn't have the stomach for it. The second was when he didn't give up Potter to his psycho aunt. Potter may not have been his favorite person but he didn't want him dead. Deep down he was praying that Harry would one day save them all.
Once the war was over and the dust had settled Draco couldn't care less about following in the path of his father's expectations. Those expectations could very well be shoved up the dark lords arse. He loved his parents and always would. They had treated him like a prince, misguided as they were. Draco felt nothing but relief when his father was sentenced to Azkaban for the duration of his life while his mother was put under house arrest. Even as his father was carted away screaming for him to carry on the Malfoy name he felt relief because he no longer felt any sense of obligation to do so.
“Son, why do you need to leave England all together? We have other houses you could stay at,” Narcissa asked, stopping him at the door.
“I need to find myself. My real self and I can't do that here.”
Narcissa understood what her son wanted more than anyone but she would miss him.
“I don't like it but I understand Draco. I'm sorry for not protecting you from all this,” she whispered sadly.
Draco gathered his mother into a hug, holding her tight. “You did. Don't ever doubt that.”
Giving her one more squeeze and a kiss on the cheek he walked out the door.
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Three months after Draco left the manor with just the clothes on his back and 50 pounds in his pocket Narcissa received, what she learned was a postcard through the muggle mail. Draco didn't get off scot free after the war. The jury deemed him not guilty of his accused crimes, but that only acquitted him from going to Azkaban or being put under house arrest with her. He was stripped of his wand and prohibited from using magic for 5 years. His owl was also taken away, hence the use of muggle mail.
Postcard #1
Mum,
I hope this finds you well. I'm sorry I haven't reached out until now. Traveling is doing me wonders and I have met some fascinating people. I'll keep in touch more regularly from now on.
Love,
D
Postcard#2
Mum,
I found the perfect travel companion. The cutest black lab pup you ever will see. I named her Peace.
Love,
D
Postcard #3
Mum,
I feel free and happy for the first time in ages. Find your happiness.
Love,
D
Narcissa could look forward to a new postcard every few weeks. In each her Draco looked healthier, happier, and at peace. While she missed him terribly knowing he was finding his happiness was worth her pain.
Postcard #4
Mum,
I'm so close to finding what I've been missing. Wish me luck!
Love,
D
Postcard #5
Mum,
I found where I belong and my passion! Please think about visiting when you can. I miss you but I can't go back. The manor and England are no longer my home. But you will always be my beloved mum.
Love,
D
Narcissa smiled as she read the latest postcard that arrived in the mail. Gone was her meticulous, perfect son. In his place was someone so much better. Narcissa didn't understand the funny looking clothes Draco seemed to favor now and his longer disheveled hair looked as if it needed a wash but his smile for the first time in ages was pure and genuine. When her house arrest was lifted she would indeed visit him.
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“Hey D! How's it hanging, brah! You going to join us when you get off later? The waves are epic today.”
Draco smiled at Linc’s daily greeting. “Not today but you enjoy the water for the both of us.” Not bothering to ask what Linc wanted to order, he ate the same thing everyday, he started assembling two fish taco dinners and poured a beer.
“How do you always know what I want?” Linc said in awe. Linc wasn't the sharpest crayon in the box, but he was one of the first people to welcome Draco when he landed in the Ko Chang District in Thailand. Linc, a transplant from the states, took him to Hat Tha Nam aka Lonely Beach on his first night and he fell in love with the laid back waterfront party scene. Traveling for over a year Draco was ready to settle down somewhere. Lonely Beach was perfect. Having lived in a pure blood is everything bubble for most of his life Draco found all the different people he encountered on his travels to be exciting. Sticking to mostly non-magical places he learned how to cook in Spain, navigate a gondola in Italy, shear sheep in Greece, harvest rice in China, and much more. With every mile that took him farther and farther from home he was able to breathe comfortably for the first time in forever. The constant worry and fear that hounded him the last couple years of his life dissipated, replaced by the blissful feeling of peace. As he explored his new home a for sale sign on a tiny food shack shined brightly like a beacon of hope. The only time Draco dipped into the money his mother hid away for him was to purchase that tiny shack and the equally tiny living space that came with it. After a few renovations Dragons Love Tacos opened for business and it became a favorite among the locals and the tourists. Draco named his new home after a popular children's book he discovered while working in a bookstore. It was Linc that introduced him to tacos and whined that he couldn't find any decent ones in their area.
“Maybe tomorrow then. Keep it loose my brother,” Linc said with a wave before heading back to the beach. Most days Draco would hang with Linc after work, but today he had other plans. The taco shack only ever closed on Sunday's. Monday through Saturday it was open 24 hours. Being a party scene the beach hardly ever slept. Business was steady no matter the hour. Draco had been lucky to find loyal employees that he called his friends. At five, Fender walked in to take over the kitchen. Fender had been Draco’s first hire and had taught him everything he knew about cooking. Fender grew up in Bangkok, but after graduating high school he traveled for two years. Their stories were different, yet similar. Both had ran away from the suffocation of expectation. Fender wanted to be free to pursue music and love who he wanted, which happened to be boys. He only made his way back to Thailand after his family finally accepted him.
“I saw Linc earlier. He was mega bummed that you weren't going to crush some waves with him,” Fender said with a laugh.
“He’ll get over it. You look different today?” Draco observed studying the smaller man. He wore his usual attire of ripped jeans and a black tank but something was off. “It's not your hair…”
Fender’s black hair fell into his deep brown eyes, but that was normal. Draco focused on the slightly swollen, red lips. “Who have you been snogging?!”
Fender bit his bottom lip, smirking. “None of your business.”
“I'm hurt. I thought we were friends.”
“We are but I'm not ready to tell you yet,” Fender said while tying the apron around his waist. “Just like how you won't tell me where you go on this day every year. We all have our secrets, D.”
That they did. “I'll be back at the end of your shift.” Draco left Fender organizing his work space the way he liked it and slipped into his living space. He was greeted by a ball of fur jumping into his arms. “Have you missed me Peace?” His answer came in slobbery kisses. Draco let her out to do her business and he went around gathering what he needed. Once she was distracted by a bone Draco shouldered a bag and stepped out into the night.
Finding a quiet patch of beach Draco placed several candles in a neat row along with plates of food. When he had lived in Korea for a spell he found the way they honored their dead every year to be beautiful. His version wasn't exact but he tried his best to honor them well. After lighting the candles he poured two drinks. One he spilled over the sand and the other he drank. If he lit a candle for every fallen wizard and witch he would have burned the beach down. So he lit ten candles that represented the dead. It had been five years to the day that Potter vanquished he who shall not be named. After settling in Thailand Draco made it a point to remember all those who were lost on the day it all ended. His fervent hope was that they had found the peace he had. Taking up his guitar he played a sweet, haunting tune well into the night.