Empty Spaces

Chapter 21

- Draco -

He couldn't let Potter pay for his dinner, but he also couldn't keep going out like this either– sure, Narcissa would send money if he ever asked, but then he would be dependent on her and, by extension, Lucius. His parents used gold to tighten the noose and control every single person in their lives, and Draco was no exception. Andor's sudden and unexplained sponsor may look like a coincidence on the surface, but Draco heard the message loud and clear: A Malfoy's first and final duty is to your family.

Get married. Produce an heir. It was the crack in a glass world that Lucius had created for his son. Had this been something Draco actually had any interest in doing, he might have blindly followed everything else Lucius stood for– he almost did. But as he grew older and it became more and more clear to him that he had no interest in a wife, let alone making children with her, he was forced to question everything Lucius taught him. It was a dangerous line to walk.

But these were all problems for future Draco, not present Draco, and present Draco was enjoying his dinner with Potter far more than any Malfoy should. Something in their earlier conversation had struck a nerve, deep and illuminating all at once– Potter knew what it felt like. Draco wasn't even entirely sure what "it" was, only that Potter was no stranger to it too: The burden of growing up living a life dictated by others... the loneliness... the guilt... the pressure to be someone you're not... They returned to the inn and Draco knew an invisible bridge had been crossed that night. The past was the past now, and the present... Well, the present gave him goosebumps when their hands brushed in the hallway right before they went their separate ways to their own rooms...

Draco knew he would have to tread far more carefully now. What happened with Andor had sucked, sure, but he couldn't let Lucius ruin whatever it was that he had going on now with Potter.

Draco got up early the next morning and headed for the bookstore– he could splurge one more time this morning, but he would rather learn to make his own damn coffee than ask his mother for money. He could get a job, too, but that would take longer and he could start being careful with his savings now. He ended up choosing two books that looked vaguely useful– Big Dreams for Small Kitchens: How to charm your way into preparing wholesome meals with even the most basic of setups and 16 Ways To Charm Your Coffee So You Can Face Whatever Your Day Decides To Throw Your Way. He was flipping through the first one, making a mental list of things he would need, when he almost walked straight into Potter outside the coffee shop.

"Hey! There you are, I've been looking for you!" Potter said, holding out a cup, "Here, I tried knocking on your door, but you weren't there so I just got black espresso. That's you, right?"

"Er– yea, thanks, Potter," Draco said, smiling that Potter somehow remembered this detail about him before handing over a few sickles.

"No, it's okay, I got you today," Potter shook his head. "What're you reading?"

"No, Potter, you're not paying for me," Draco insisted, feeling bad that it came out sounding harsher than he'd intended. He couldn't be in Potter's debt, because that's how things get messed up. Draco had learned from the best, after all, and if you want to entangle someone deep into your claws, the first thing you do is get them to owe you.

It's just coffee, idiot. Potter isn't like that. He doesn't keep track of what you owe and what he owes.

But it's the little things that start the cycle. You do something for me, I do something for you, always increasing and tipping the scales in my favor until I have the noose nice and tight and then I can get anything I want from you. But that can't happen with Potter.

"Hey. You okay?" Potter asked. "You can get mine next time if you want. Or- here, it's okay, I can take it, it was just four sickles..."

Grateful that Potter didn't seem to need more of an explanation, Draco handed over four sickles and put his new books away in his schoolbag.