Empty Spaces

Chapter 15

- Draco -

Draco marched back to the inn, furious with himself. How could he be so stupid!? He supposed he and Andor hadn't been exactly subtle with their frequent appearances at all the Hogsmeade cafes and restaurants, but they definitely weren't flaunting their relationship either. Most of what they did took place behind closed doors, which suited Draco just fine. But Potter– how could one who generally came off as extremely obtuse suddenly turn out to be this observant??

"So late again?" Andor greeted him, getting up from a pile of papers at the bar. "You are making me worry, liebling. But no matter, here you are. Come, shall we go to dinner then?"

Not really knowing what else to say or do, and also looking forward to tonight when Andor would make all his problems disappear, Draco simply said yes.

"There is another event at the end of the month, an arts gala of sorts," Andor said as they settled into their table at the corner cafe, "Halloween night. Care to join?"

At least I'll have something to look forward to after turning in all that damn homework.

"Where?"

"London again," Andor smiled, "Different hotel and different event, but you know how these things are. All the same. Drinks and smiles and money. Lots of money. Sponsors looking to commission a work and artists looking for people with more money than they know what to do with to fund their projects."

Draco smirked. He'd been to tons of these, but never on the receiving end. Andor laughed.

"So that's a yes then, liebling?"

"Yea, sure, that's a yes," Draco said, trying to sound bored. He may be the worst one in the entire history of his whole bloodline, but he was, at the end of the day, still a Malfoy. At the very least, he'd have a few good cocktails and a change of scenery. And any night involving Andor and a hotel room was bound to become a good one sooner or later.

The days passed in a strange paradox of inching forward and flying by– the deadline of Halloween loomed closer and closer as Draco found himself frantically writing at every possible spare minute while on campus. In the breaks. In class. And by the lake with Potter while everyone else was at Defense. After school, he passed long hours in bed or in conversation with his Hungarian lover. For all his flaws, Andor was handsome, cultured, and intelligent, and Draco really did genuinely enjoy his company.

For his part, Potter, seemed to be done with questions, but he was annoyingly everywhere somehow. Draco knew what it felt like to be watched – Potter was watching him, and he wasn't sure what was more irritating: The fact that Potter was doing it or the fact that Draco realized he didn't hate it. At least someone gave a shit, even if it was just Potter.

Halloween came around and Draco turned in his final assignment, breathing a sigh of relief. It had been a close call, too close. He couldn't let it get to that again, but in the meantime, he had other, more exciting plans on the horizon. As Andor would say, he deserved a little fun, no?

Draco supposed he should have known when Andor appeared in dress robes, not a Muggle suit, but it had all happened so fast– he'd barely made it back to their room in time to change before Andor swept him out the door and apparated them into London. But once Draco saw where they were, he made the horrible connection in his brain.

"This is Diagon Alley," he said bluntly, sounding annoyingly like Potter as he realized Andor hadn't mentioned anything about this being Muggle event, just another gala... Oh. Shit.

"Of course, liebling, come down this way, here," Andor led Draco to one of the ancient and ornately decorated hotels. Draco vaguely recognized it; he'd stayed here as a child maybe once or twice. "But don't worry, you look wonderful. That suit is incredible on you..."