Empty Spaces

Chapter 17

- Draco -

Sunday, 3rd November

My Son,

No matter how far the fledgling flies from its nest and no matter how many crows it keeps company with, an eagle is still an eagle. A mother worries for her only son. One day, you will have your own son and you will understand that your family only has your best interests in mind.

Your Loving Mother

~Narcissa

Draco took the letter and threw it across the room. Three days, three hallowing, nerve wracking days was all it took... At least now they know. What are you going to do, Lucius? Disown me? Cut me off from your fortune? Go ahead. I'll make it on my own. His heart broke for his mother, the woman who tried her best but was never quite able to disentangle herself from her husband's deep and poisonous claws... Far-fetched fantasies of escaping back to Budapest with Andor now seemed incredibly alluring. Draco could work with that– becoming someone's arm candy now seemed a far better fate than the one Lucius had been drilling into him all his life, the one he never had any intention of fulfilling.

"Everything alright, mein liebchen?" Andor called out from his desk, scrawling and crossing out and re-writing something.

"Fine," Draco said, figuring he might as well get going on seeing whether he could work Andor up to extending an invitation. He got up and kissed his lover's ear, then his neck.

"Was ist das, mein liebchen," Andor reached up and caressed Draco's hair, "Someone is affectionate tonight."

"For you, always," Draco purred, pulling his lover in closer. "Come... be mine... love me tonight... and every night..."

"Mein liebchen... Do you even have to ask?" Andor abandoned his papers and turned around, picking Draco up and kissing him thoroughly, pinning him against the wall, "Du bist mein... But you already knew that..."

"Yes..." Draco gave in. He'd never had any intention of belonging to anyone. But he could belong to Andor, if it took him away from Lucius forever. "Ich liebe dich..." Did he really? Did it matter? What mattered most now was freedom, no matter what it cost him. So why was Potter's face appearing in his mind tonight as he loved his Hungarian writer? Fuck off, Potter, stay out of this.

"Take me away with you," Draco pleaded in the heat of the moment, "We'll see the world together... love each other... travel... be free..."

Andor replied with something in Hungarian that Draco hoped meant yes. Afterwards, he eventually drifted off to sleep, daring to feel a cautious sense of optimism, maybe even safety, in his lover's arms.

Draco woke to a cold bed the next morning, which at first glance wasn't much of a surprise– Andor was a naturally early riser– but the bustle of things flying through the room into two large trunks most definitely was. Wondering if Andor had taken his pleas seriously the night before, Draco rolled over to see his lover folding a pile of clothes with his wand.

"Ah, guten morning, liebling," Andor smiled. There is something different about that smile. "I've received quite an interesting letter early this morning. You wouldn't happen to know anything about it, would you? No? Ah. Well. It seems I have found a generous sponsor– one who wishes to remain anonymous– interested in funding the remainder of my book, as well as the next three projects of my choice. I have the first payment in my hand already. There was, however, quite an unusual catch to my acceptance of this offer... a quid pro quo, if you will. For you see, I'm to immediately cease all contact with you after today."

Lucius.

What the actual fuck.

"... and you accepted!?" Draco spat out, incredulous, reaching for the letter. Andor held it up out of reach.