"Harry Potter is dead." Voldemort's dry voice had echoed through the court yard and the words struck Draco harshly, his world seemingly crashing around him. It couldn't be true, there was no way he... Harry wouldn't of... Draco's mind had raced with denial. It had to be a lie, he wished that much. But he had known it wasn't. This was the first thing to truly ruin Draco's life.

     His father had made eye contact with his mother through the crowd when it happened. The message was simple; get our son out of here. His mother, Narcissa, had grabbed his shoulder. He looked down at her and realized just how tall he had gotten up until that moment as well as the tears behind his mothers eyes. He couldn't grieve now, not when his mother was whispering in his ear. "Run, my son, your father and I will catch up and we can hide from this together. Go, hurry, and try not to be seen."

     Draco Malfoy had pleaded with his mother to come with him, like a small child being dropped off at school for the first time begging their parent to stay with them, using his eyes to try and sway her. Narcissa had looked behind her, but was unable to see her husband any longer as the courtyard was thrown into chaos. She turned back to see her sons wide eyes, still so childlike yet grown, knowing the pain of loss, a pain she wished she could take from him now. So she went with him and they ran. Oh, how they ran, and how their legs had throbbed, until they could reach an apparition point. They didn't know if they had been seen, but in that moment all that had mattered was getting out of there.

      Not knowing when it would be safe, they left the wizarding world. They fled to America, alone. It took a lot of getting used to, but Draco's discovery of the internet sped up the process greatly. He found how they could legally, in the muggle sense, change their names to blend in. They claimed that it was to escape a bad family life. It worked for some time before an american wizard recognized them while they were in a muggle city, window shopping for less worn-out clothes. Draco, now going by Julian, had grown out his hair at this point, but his mother hadn't changed much and was easily compared to her wanted posters without glamours in place.

     Hidden in an alley, dark and damp, praying to any god that would listen not to be found, his mother had decided to split up. "It's only for a short while." His mother had promised him in a hushed tone. "You can move and go back to blending in. Cut your hair again, get a muggle job. They haven't heard your new name yet." Draco had shed more than a few tears, seeing his mother knelt in what could have been sewage in a dress less than elegant.

     He wanted to say, to beg, for her not to leave, but he already knew it was best that she did. "Promise me you'll call?" He had said instead, trying to keep his voice from cracking with emotion. Narcissa had sighed that sounded almost like a sob.

     "You've grown so much..." Perhaps he had in those two years that they had been on the run, but he hadn't the time to reflect on his character in that time. "Of course I'll call, sweetheart, and write, and even text, if that's the correct word." Draco let out a strained half-laugh.

     "Yes, mother, that's the right word..."

     He had reassured before hearing the sudden yell of: "Over here!" less than a block away. They knew that they had been found.

     His mother had quickly kissed his forehead and quietly whispered "I love you.". Then she ran before he had had the chance to say it back. Draco watched her leave, watched as she caught the attention of the wizards and witch that had been chasing them for nearly a mile through this dingy city. Narcissa moved to make it look as though she was following where Draco had gone all whist move further from him. Then she apparated.

     At the time he hadn't known where she had gone, and instead of trying to come up with unfounded answers, he snuck away with the background noise of "We'll get them next time, those death-eaters." from a masculine voice and the sickly sound of a dripping liquid that may not have been water. 

     Constructive criticism is welcome. These chapters should get longer as the story continues. Most likely slow updates.