Empty Spaces

Chapter 24

- Draco -

Kissing Harry was everything he'd imagined it to be and more– not that he'd really been imagining it or anything. It was tentative and hopeful, tender and passionate, all wrapped up into one breathless moment that had Draco wondering whether he was awake or dreaming. But no, there was Potter, pulling back with concern and care etched into his face, asking permission while somehow also asking for more.

"Do you want to do this, Potter?" Draco whispered. You're playing with fire now... fire and ice...

"Only if you do," Potter whispered back, always so chivalrous.

"You know what you're getting into?" Nobody gets entangled with a Malfoy and wins. Are you really up for this, Potter? Am I?

"Yeah, but you're worth it," Potter replied back before moving in again.

It was the first time anyone said anything to the extent of these words to Draco... did he dare to believe it could be true...? Potter... do you even know what you're saying...

All too soon, they broke apart as the reality of what just happened started to settle in. Potter gave an endearing sort of sheepish grin: Yea. We just did that, didn't we? Draco returned the smile, probably looking just as goofy, but he didn't care anymore. They were beyond facades and collected demeanors now. Draco couldn't remember the last time he felt so free in the presence of another person. It felt nice.

Torn between wanting more and wanting to go slowly– he would not mess things up with Potter– Draco settled for letting Potter take him in his arms, melting into his touch and enjoying the tender closeness. In many ways, it was somehow more intimate than anything he'd done in the bedroom with Andor. What magic is this, Potter??

And so passed the afternoon, with tentative kisses and tender touches, new and filled with promise for a future that neither of them thought they'd live to see. Between it all, they managed to get their homework done and then Draco made dinner– he was now even more keen to show off his new skill. Night fell and Potter pulled him in for a final embrace before chivalrously returning to his own room, leaving Draco alone once more. Except that now, for some reason, he didn't feel so alone. It was strange. It was good.

Draco went down to the bar first thing the next morning to pick up Aberforth's letters and let him know he would be willing to do it; Aberforth handed them over and Draco promised to have his translation done by the end of the day. He was tucking them into his schoolbag when Potter appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

"Hey," Potter came over with a shy grin on his face, "Everything okay? You're usually not up this early..."

"Yea, I just came down to pick something up from Aberforth," Draco replied. Potter raised an eyebrow, so Draco launched into an explanation of his new job with a genuine feeling of pride that he'd rarely experienced before. Potter looked on, impressed.

"That's so cool!" Potter gushed, "Wait so you're like the official translator of the Hog's Head Inn now or something?? I didn't know you spoke Italian... Latin doesn't surprise me, though, of course you would know a useless language..."

Draco grinned. He felt ridiculous, but to his surprise, he also didn't care. Life was so much easier when you didn't have to spend half your brainpower and energy maintaining invisible walls, hiding from the world, putting on the Malfoy facade.

"Latin's not useless, most of our spells come from Latin, idiot," Draco teased affectionately, giving Potter a little nudge.

"Come on, it's early enough, we can go get breakfast and celebrate your official position as the first and probably only ever Hog's Head translator," Potter invited, giving Draco an affectionate kiss on the cheek. Draco turned and gave Potter a proper one in return, deciding to try and take a leaf out of Potter's book and not give a shit. But in a good way.