- Harry -
Harry watched Malfoy turn on his heel and march off fuming. For a moment he wanted to follow, but restrained himself in the end– the last thing he wanted was to break whatever this place was that they had managed to find. Trust? Understanding? There is only so far you can push before you reach a tipping point.
He'd learned more about Malfoy in the past six months than he ever had in the past six years. Harry would never forget the days after the war, how Malfoy's hidden life was slowly revealed to him during the trials. Most of it had been Malfoy himself: Under endless promises of protection and with his own freedom at stake, he revealed what life was really like for him at the Manor, speaking in a monotonous tone with his eyes cast down. Narcissa had revealed even more; her determination to keep her son out of prison may have been precisely what the Ministry needed to finally put Lucius Malfoy away forever. Harry wondered sometimes if Draco ever suspected he knew as much as he did. And when all was said and done, he found himself leaving the courtrooms that summer with a strange sense of gratitude directed at the Dursleys– they, despite all their flaws, at least had the decency to be completely honest with him in that regard: Harry had never for one moment thought their relationship was anything other than what it was. Sure, it had been awful. But it was honest where it mattered– he never confused their treatment of him with love. Draco, he quickly came to realize, had not had that luxury. It made Harry see him in a whole different light.
Not really feeling like staying in their spot by himself, Harry picked up his things and made his way back up the castle, wondering what to do next. He could go to the library to finish his homework, or go see if there was anything to eat in the Great Hall... he could go down to the village and see if he could figure out what Malfoy was up to, but he could guess well enough... with his dark hair and dark eyes, Malfoy's boyfriend wasn't exactly Harry's type, but he was certainly handsome... and older... and...
"Herr Potter," Holmberg's rich voice came floating up from behind, "No classes this afternoon?"
"What? I– no, no, I'm not taking Defense this year," Harry fumbled, turning around to see the German Potions Master coming out from the teacher's study.
Holmberg smiled and nodded, processing this with understanding. It was a welcome reprieve from most people's reactions, which tended to range from "Well that's stupid, what a waste of your natural gift" to "Of course, that makes sense, you're so good that there's nothing left for you to learn."
"What are you taking this year?" Holmberg asked mildly. "If you don't mind my asking."
"Er– Potions, sorry, obviously–" Harry said, feeling annoyingly inarticulate, "Charms, Transfiguration, and Herbology," he finished, grateful to have at least finished his sentence without sounding like a complete idiot.
"Have you considered what you might be interested in doing after graduation?" Holmberg asked in the same welcoming, neutral tone.
"Er– no... I mean, I'd wanted to become an Auror for years, but..." Harry said, wondering why he was sharing any of this with Holmberg in the first place. But now that he'd started, it was all coming out. "I don't know what happened. I guess at the beginning it was about... I don't know, justice and all that. Wanting to do the right thing. Then the war happened... and I saw... I did... I don't know. I just... can't do it anymore. It's lost all its... everything."
"The, how do you say, the 'spark' is gone?" Holmberg supplied gently. Harry nodded, processing. That's it. The spark is gone. And nothing has taken its place. That's the feeling, the emptiness...
"Herr Potter, this is only a suggestion, but something you might find worth considering. Your work in Potions is most excellent. There are apprenticeships in Germany that you might be interested in taking, should you choose to continue with Potions after school. I can help you find a Meister to study under, there are many who are fluent in English."

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Empty Spaces
FanfictionWhat do you do when everything you know comes to an end? The battle is over, Voldemort's gone, everything they ever wanted has come to pass. So why is it so hard to return to a "normal" life? How does one simply pick up the pieces and move on? When...